


Requiem

by etherimaginary



Series: Demon!au [2]
Category: EXO (Band), VIXX
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-14
Updated: 2016-06-20
Packaged: 2018-06-02 04:35:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6551278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/etherimaginary/pseuds/etherimaginary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fear the rogues, little duckling, and the hell fire they bring. Fear those lurking in the same shadows that you once owned, the ever-watching eyes, the voices that coo dark lullabies into your mind to help you sleep at night. Fear the rogues, by god, fear the rogues. But more importantly, fear <em>me</em>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> OKAY SO LIKE I WAS SUPPOSED TO POST THIS 3 DAYS AGO AND IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A FULL LENGTH CHAPTER BUT YOU KNOW WHAT I HAD THREE DIFFERENT LABS DUE FOR THREE DIFFERENT CLASSES AND I HAVE A CHEMISTRY MIDTERM TOMORROW WHICH I HAVENT HAD TIME TO STUDY FOR AND I HAD A PHYSICS TEST AND BOTH A TEST AND A QUIZ IN BIOLOGY JUST THIS WEEK ALREADY AND IM PRETTY SURE I HAVE ANOTHER ON FRIDAY SO MAYBE ITS NOT ALL THAT LONG AND MAYBE ITS NOT MY BEST WORK AND YEAH THERE ARE PROBABLY A FEW MISTAKES BUT IM PRETTY STRESSED RIGHT NOW AND MORE SLEEP DEPRIVED THAN USUAL OKAY SO IM DOIN MY BEST HERE.  
> Alrighty, now that that's out of the way  
> This fic is basically a mash of all the ideas I had. Its going to involve killing, and hunhan, and its a continuation of demon!au. I still will probably write actual seriialkillerau at a later date though.  
> Consider this chapter like the prologue to what is going to involve a lot more exo members. But I had said I was going to post hunhan so here I am now. This fic will bounce between different members. Hopefully it wont be a complete and utter train wreck. Fingers crossed. (This sentence structure oooo. I'm so tired otl)  
> This is actually going to be the first chaptered fic that I'm posting where I'm writing it in live time. This means that I won't be able to post every day like i did previous chaptered fics, but I'm lowkey excited because I only have a rough plot line for this fic (like super rough) so I can use your guys' ideas! woo!  
> I'm going to update the warnings, characters and ships as they appear. Like I said; rough plot.

Tonight was a hunting night. Really, Sehun could hunt any night he wanted, hell, he could hunt multiple times in one night, if he so pleased. There was a certain pleasure to waiting, however, one that built with each static day and simmered under the empty nights, until his fingers twitched and his leg bounced and _so help me god, Sehun, if you don’t sit the fuck down and stay still I will rip your lungs out_. He grinned, letting the crisp air tingle on the edge of his senses as he made his way further into the bowels of the city. It was no fun hunting in the ghetto; those were already lost souls. No, Sehun wanted, _needed_ , fresh meat. He needed someone who had a lot to give, and someone from which he had a lot to take.

It was cold, bitterly so. Frost painted the edges of the windows he passed by, darkened storefronts clutching veils of shadow beneath them. Despite this, Sehun had chosen to wear as little as possible, tight jeans and a hoodie with the sleeves rolled up being all he donned. The cold didn’t bother him, and it was an inconvenience to have to take off multiple layers of clothing. He watched as the number of pedestrians on the street grew and thickened; rich, pampered adolescents without fear under the comfort of their streetlamps and goose feather jackets. He locked eyes with them as he passed, snickering with each stumble, each soft gasp and blink of their wide, glazed eyes. It had only been days since he was out, and yet he had already missed it so much. He could feel his teeth sharpen at the mere idea of killing, of fucking, of watching the life drip out of his next victim as their body twitched and gurgled. It was a buffet he could agonize over for ages, but the night was waning, and if there was one luxury he couldn’t go without, it was taking his time.

The door of a club opened a few feet in front of him, spewing its intoxicated contents onto the sidewalk. A group of boys; he could hear their drunken laughter as they righted themselves, each one swaying on his feet. Easy. Sehun slinked up to the group, molding himself in their disarray to dart his gaze over each face. They stuttered on a particular one, all soft lips and doe eyes rimmed with too much eyeliner. There was something about the boy that drew Sehun in, something utterly quenching about his tipsy grin and unsteady feet. Even without the glamour, the boy’s vision was unfocused, blinking away the heavy blanket of intoxication that smothered his mind. The circle around him was silent; each blurred vision locked on him, waiting to see what he would do and hoping it would involve them. Sehun dared not look away from the pretty face, his eyes watching each subtle twitch as the boy melted into putty under his stare alone. Oh, what Sehun could do to the boy.

“What’s your name?” The boy blinked at Sehun’s voice, his lips parting though it took a few seconds for any sound to come out.

“Luhan.” His voice was as pretty as he was. Sehun could only imagine what it sounded like moaning out his name. 

“Well, Luhan,” Sehun crooned, his teeth glinting as a shiver ran up the boys spine, “how would you like to spend the night with me?” The circle of boys cooed at his request, some daring to reach forward, their fingers brushing against Sehun’s bare forearms or trailing down his jeans. “Don’t worry,” his eyes at last broke away from the boy’s face, making sure he had every last drop of attention on him, “I’ll take care of him.”

At his friends’ nods, Luhan grinned, stepping closer as his hand lightly closed around Sehun’s wrist. “I’m all yours.”

Cocking his head slightly, Sehun smirked, pulling the hand on his wrist downward until their fingers intertwined. “Yes, you are.”

~ ~ ~

It was surprisingly difficult for Sehun to wait until they got to the motel before he put his hands on Luhan. The boy was simply irresistible, leaning into his touch, whispering against the skin of his neck. He was utterly delicious, and Sehun had quite nearly tugged Luhan’s arm out of his socket as he pulled the boy along the streets, forgoing checking into the lobby in favour of pushing him into the elevator with perhaps more force than necessary. It didn’t matter that much anyways; Yi Fan had placed a glamour over the owner of the motel, a lasting one of the sort that only he had mastered. It was faint, but it was enough; Sehun hadn’t gotten so much as a second glance as he dragged his new found toy through the lobby. It was all he could do to wait for the elevator doors to close before he was on top of the boy, hands gripping his hair as his arms boxed his head against the wall. Luhan moaned under his touch, his mouth open and needy to Sehun’s invading tongue. Sehun tugged on his hair roughly, his mouth moving from Luhan’s lips to suck and bite at the flesh of his neck. The elevator pinged, abruptly pausing their endeavors. A growl rumbled in Sehun’s throat, irritated at the interruption, and then he was stepping out of the elevator with Luhan in tow, his pace brisk as he pulled the boy down the familiar hallway to a door that he made sure was never locked. It was convenience more than anything; it made it that much easier to throw the door open, using Luhan’s body as a method of shutting it once they were inside. Luhan keened, his back pressed against the worn wood as his hands gripped Sehun’s neck.

“Please,” he whimpered, his body arching into Sehun’s as more bruises were nibbled into his jaw. It was too easy to concede to the pleas that fell from his pretty lips, and Sehun’s hands found the hem of Luhan’s shirt, tugging it over his head to reveal the smooth expanse of flesh beneath. His fingertips made trails of fire along his chest, his nails present crescent marks into the skin. Luhan whimpered at the sensation, biting back a moan as Sehun’s teeth broke the skin of his shoulder. Sehun could feel the hands in his hair tighten, his own travelling lower to tease the edge of his pants, fingers dipping below the seam if only to make Luhan squirm. “ _Please_ ,” he begged again, his voice a sob, “I can’t take it.”

Smirking against his skin, Sehun obliged, pulling him to the center of the room before shoving him roughly onto the bed. Luhan bounced on the mattress twice before stilling, his eyes flickering dark for a moment brief enough that Sehun convinced himself he had imagined it. After all, how could he focus with Luhan looking so delicious, panting and shivering against the cool air. Sehun settled above him, knees pressing into the bed on either side of Luhan’s waist. His tongue darted out to drag along Luhan’s collar bone, his hands holding his ribcage tightly. 

Surprisingly, it was Luhan that tugged Sehun’s face back up to his, one hand fisting tightly in his hair. Sehun blinked in surprise, not used to his prey being anything but completely pliant under his hand. Out of the corner of his eye Sehun could see Luhan’s other hand fiddling with something, but then he was tugged forward into a kiss, deep enough that had Sehun racing to catch his breath, but not quite enough to pull his mind away from wondering what Luhan had been toying with.

He found out a moment later when blinding pain exploded through his side, his body tensing as he gasped into Luhan’s mouth. His attempt to pull away was halted as the grip in his hair tightened, a second stab of pain erupting beside the first. Luhan opened his eyes then, his lips pulling into a wicked grin at Sehun’s shock. His eyes were black; a sight Sehun had seen before, but never on his prey, never on a _human_. He struggled more against Luhan’s grip, but the knife in his side prevented held him down, tearing deeper into the skin with each shudder. Sehun choked as he felt the blade twist inside him slowly, and he could see the sharped tips of Luhan’s teeth as his lips pulled wider, his eyes never leaving the other’s. Sehun was effectively trapped, his face inches away from those depthless eyes, those cruel teeth.

“Yi Fan.” It was a choke, a sob, and at any other time Sehun would have been ashamed to have made that sound. “Yi Fan.” His voice grew louder, crackling as the knife was torn out, a growl resonating from Luhan’s chest as he chose another spot to slide it in. Black spots danced across his vision at the pain, his body trembling with each breath. The hand on his hair tugged his face closer, Luhan’s lip curled into a snarl.

“Sehunnie,” he crooned, the edges of his voice shards of glass, “duckling, don’t call out for your master now. I want you all to myself.” With that, Luhan ripped the knife upwards, connecting the dots he had made into a single messy line. Sehun heaved, his arms giving out so that he collapsed onto Luhan’s chest, blood seeping into the mattress. He sobbed at the feeling of the knife leaving his body, its tip dragging across the flesh of his back teasingly. Its touch was soon replaced with fingertips, creeping down his spine and smearing the blood left there by the blade. 

“Rest, baby.” Luhan’s voice came from above him, gentle, vile. “Don’t worry; I’ll be here when you wake up.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, this is another short chapter, but I gotta ask you guys a question;  
> Would you rather I have chapters about this length, which I could post frequently, or longer chapters (maybe 3-4k), that i could possibly do every weekish?

Yi Fan’s fist hit the table hard, startling a few of the people in the room. “Where the fuck is he?” he growled, each pair of eyes trained on his scowling face. He had pulled everyone from their shifts for this meeting, and he’d be _damned_ if he didn’t have their full attention.

“Nobody knows, Kris.” Junmyeon looked exasperated, his fingers rubbing constant circles into his temples. “We’ve been over this.” Still, even he knew how dire the situation had become; Sehun hadn’t returned from his hunt the week prior, and not a single one of them had heard from him since. “Kai, do you know anything about this?”

At first, his only response was a scoff, Jongin narrowing his eyes accusingly. “Why would I?” His tone was hard, but Junmyeon could feel the apprehension behind the words, the uncertainty. He couldn’t blame him. Though Sehun couldn’t have been more polar to Jongin, the two of them had been close. Close enough that it was still a possibility that Sehun could have run away, much like Jongin had did those short few years ago.

“Don’t play coy with us, _Jongin_ ,” Yi Fan sneered, watching him shrink under the word. His eyes were flickering black at the edges; a sight most unnerving to most everyone present. Yi Fan in a good mood was imposing to begin with, and now he simply dripped anger, cracks webbing out from where his hands pressed into the wooden surface of the table. “Don’t pretend like we didn’t have to have this exact same fucking meeting when you went missing.” His voice rose with each word, nobody daring to breath under the weight of his mere presence. “Is it supposed to be coincidence that you both decide to vanish within years of each other? Should we sit back and wait until he finds his own worthless human toy to ruin him?”

There was silence as the last sentence fell into the air between them, a few mouths dropping open in shock. Eyes flicked between the two of them, Yi Fan’s face a dark mask as Jongin throat worked up and down. The tension was strung between them; glass threads too sharp to touch as they strangled the sound out of the room. It was Yixing who finally spoke up, his voice quiet and wary.

“Let’s not jump to any conclusions.” He didn’t look up as he spoke, not wanting to meet Yi Fan’s eye. “Yes, it is odd that there have been two occasions of one of us going missing so close to one another, but we cannot assume that Kai has anything to do with it.”

“He’s right.” Yixing visibly relaxed when Jongdae spoke, reaching over to squeeze his hand as a silent thank you. “They are different people. Sehun loved this; everyone knows that. I can’t imagine him running away.”

Yi Fan looked between the three of them with narrowed eyes, waiting until each squirmed with discomfort before sighing and leaning back into his chair. He pinched the bridge of his nose as the room drained of tension, frustration stiff in his shoulders. A shuffle sounded from the side of the room, a shift that revealed an out of breath yet undeniably smug Tao.

“I checked in with all of the nests around the area that we thought Sehun would be in.” He took his seat across from Junmyeon, pulling a laptop out of his backpack and setting it in front of Yi Fan. “The owner of the motel just outside of downtown _seemed_ to have seen him, though it would have been a hell of a lot easier to tell if he wasn’t glamoured all the time.” He shot Yi Fan a pointed look, which was ignored, and logged onto the laptop, clicking files until a video popped up on the screen. “Sehun had never checked in, but I took a look at the security cameras, and voila; there he was.” 

A quick tap of the spacebar was all it took for the video to begin to play, a familiar figure striding through the lobby with prey in tow. Kris watched as the two waited for the elevator, their bodies pressed together. “That’s him,” he murmured as the elevator doors closed around them, the video cutting off, “I’m sure of it.”

“Was there any footage of him leaving the lobby?” It was Minseok that spoke, his fingers tapping restlessly on the table as all eyes turned to him. Tao shook his head, shutting the laptop and shoving it unceremoniously back into his bag. “He could have shifted out, then. Maybe he decided he just wanted to come straight back here rather than walk around with the humans.”

“I don’t think he’s walking anywhere anytime soon.” There was rustling as Tao searched his band, drawing out a knife and tossing it onto the table. “I searched the motel and found this in one of the rooms. There was blood all over the bed, and this-” he pulled out a shirt from his bag, one that they had seen countless times before, “-on the floor.”

Junmyeon reached forward to grasp the knife gingerly, bringing to his face and inhaling deeply. “This is Sehun’s blood.” He looked over at Yi Fan, dread hallowing his eyes. “Who could have done this?”

“No human.” Yi Fan snatched the shirt off of the table, the fabric tight in his fist. “Only one thing could have broken a glamour, and if that is that case then we could all be in danger. Sehun, it appears, has been attacked.”

“By what?” Minseok’s voice was small, his stomach sinking with the look Yi Fan and Junmyeon shared.

Yi Fan took one last look at the shirt before tossing it back on the table, his presence thick in the air. “A rogue.”

~ ~ ~

The world was black. Black and cold and slightly fuzzy. Sehun groaned, shifting his weight to lean against the cool stone wall behind him. He wasn’t sure how long he had been out, but both of his legs had fallen asleep in the time, and now burned with each little movement. He blinked, trying to rid himself of the darkness covering his eyes and feeling a fabric rubbing against his lashes. It explained why it was dark, at least, but the blindfold on his head did nothing to hint at where he was or how he had gotten there. His body ached, each movement sending shocks of pain into his side. He had gotten stabbed; he could remember that much. At the motel, with the prey that wasn’t prey after all. He tried to pull the blindfold off, but the motion was halted with a clanking of metal and a tug on his wrists, chaining him to the wall.

“You’re awake!” The voice was far too cheerful for the situation, and Sehun merely moaned at it, not quite able to place who it belonged to. Footsteps echoed across the stone, getting closer until they stopped just in front of Sehun’s slumped form. “It sure took you long enough, though.”

Any words that Sehun tried to form caught in his throat, dry and gravelly from disuse. He could feel hands in his hair, and a moment later the fabric around his eyes was removed, revealing a slightly less dark room. Every inch was ancient stone, grey and smooth from centuries of wear. Metal shackles, akin to the ones currently viced around his wrists, adorned the walls, haunting in their own right. Sehun coughed, blinking up at the figure that stood before him, his eyes narrowing.

“Luhan? What- what’s going on?” Sehun was shocked at the sound of his own voice. It was weak, strangled, slurred together into a slightly incoherent mess. His face brought back memories to the surface; the hunt, the motel, the _bed_. As the imaged filtered through his mind, his eyes widened, leaning back in to the wall, his body shaking. He looked down at his side- had it always been bare?- and took in the gauze wrapped tightly around his torso, blotches of red creeping through at some places. He could feel bruises sprouting in his wrists from when he pulled too hard against his restraints, the metal cuffs rusted and unforgiving as they bit into his flesh. 

“Don’t struggle.” Sehun flinched at the feeling of Luhan’s hands on his arms, stilling his movements. “You’re on some pretty strong glamour already, but if you keep fighting, they’ll make it worse.”

_They_. Sehun could only wonder who that meant. It was ominous, and the threat of the unknown was enough to cease his panic entirely, replacing it with a paralyzing dread. Luhan’s words took time to sink in, each syllable seeming to take Sehun’s entire consciousness to process. He was glamoured? It would explain why the world was fuzzy, and why Luhan’s voice sounded far away. It would also explain why his limbs felt so heavy, his body weak. And suddenly, the promise of _they _was choking, nauseating. Because in all his life, the only ones he had known to be able to glamour one of their own were Yi Fan and Junmyeon. But it was clear that they were not behind his captivity, and if someone else held that kind of power, and that someone currently held Sehun tight between their claws, then he wasn’t sure if he would ever make it out. At least, not alive.__


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GOOD LORD I HAVE HAD A HEEEEECTIC WEEK  
> I am just trying to live, but my teachers have other plans, hence why this took so bloody long to finish.

“Come in.”

Jongin eyed the near empty room suspiciously, his gaze travelling from Yi Fan to Junmyeon to the empty chair situated across the table from them. He closed the door softly behind him, taking light steps towards the two. Junmyeon had a concerning look on his face, his eyes filled with apprehension and pity. Yi Fan tapped his fingers impatiently on the table but did not, as Jongin had thought he would, bark at him to move faster. 

“Have a seat.” Yi Fan’s voice was uncharacteristically soft, gentle even, and it made Jongin jumpy. He thought there was nothing more terrifying than an angry Yi Fan, but it appeared he was wrong. This Yi Fan, gentle, calm, was much worse. Yi Fan waited until his order was obeyed before speaking, his eyes flicking up to Jongin’s face before flitting elsewhere, eventually settling on the table between them. “I understand that you and Sehun were close, yes?” Jongin nodded. Yi Fan’s fingers tapped. Junmyeon frowned. “Rogues are not something to play around with, you know that. Sehun is quite possibly in great danger, if he is still alive, and until we find and dispose of whoever has done this terrible act, then every hunt you go on could be your last. This being said, you understand how crucial it is to get Sehun back safe and sound, yes? You would help out to the best of your ability to ensure that we are all able to walk the streets without fearing for our wellbeing, as well as the wellbeing of our brothers, our family, is that correct?” Another nod. More tapping. A soft sigh. 

“I was under the impression that rogues were only a possibility.” Jongin’s interruption had Yi Fan looking up, his eyebrows hitching slightly as his lips pressed into a line. 

“I only said that as not to worry everyone else.” Yi Fan waved his hand in the air dismissively, his gaze at last rising to meet Jongin’s. “I, as well as Junmyeon, know without a doubt that it was a rogue that took Sehun. That is why I called you here, to discuss the options on hand.”

“How do you know?” Jongin’s voice was challenging, slightly offended that Yi Fan hadn’t told them the whole truth, even if it wasn’t surprising.

“Kai, do you know what a rogue is?” It was Junmyeon that spoke, and Jongin felt wretched at how utterly exhausted he sounded. “Not the general definition, not just someone who has turned their back on their job; an _actual_ rogue.”

Jongin opened his mouth to speak, yet no words fell from his lips. He frowned, lost in thought, until he shook his head with a sigh, leaning forward as a silent plea to continue.

“It is when the predator becomes the prey.” There was a certain bitterness to Yi Fan’s voice as he spoke, his nails digging into the already abused wood of the table. “When a higher demon glamours one of their own kind, deep enough that they become nothing but a puppet, a mouthpiece that acts upon every wish.”

Swallowing, Jongin let the words sink in slowly, squinting slightly. “How is that possible? How can someone just… wipe away an entire person?”

“It is difficult, but it can be done.” At last, Yi Fan’s hands slipped from the table, his body leaning back in his chair heavily. Jongin wondered how long it had been since he had slept. “It requires someone of extremely high rank, and the prey must be weakened.”  
“Weakened?”

“They cannot have hunted for a while.” Yi Fan smirked, his head cocking with amusement. “I suppose that when you ran away, your biggest fear was me finding you. Would you like to know what mine was?” Jongin stilled, his breath catching on his lips. Because that _had_ been his biggest fear, whether he was able to admit it or not. He nodded slowly, eyes trained on Yi Fan’s lips as he spoke. “Mine was not finding you fast enough. Not finding you before someone else did.”

Dread seeped through Jongin’s chest, terror that was long past due sticky in his throat. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because,” Yi Fan shrugged, his tone far too casual for the topic of conversation, “before you even existed, someone else, one of my own, decided to run away. They decided that they didn’t want to hunt, that they could starve themselves and live as a human, that they could run from this life and never look back. But we both know it isn’t that simple is it? There is no escape; you will always belong to someone, and if you don’t, then you will always be running from them. It is a life of fear; a life of hiding. And unlike you I couldn’t find them in time.”

Jongin looked from Yi Fan to Junmyeon, his mind whirring at the slew of information that had just been bestowed onto him. “What happened to him? The runaway, I mean. What was his name?”

“His name was Luhan.” Surprisingly, Yi Fan voice was solemn as he spoke, the words hanging in the empty air like guillotines. “He is now a rogue, operated by a high demon named Hakyeon. They are the ones that have Sehun; I could recognize Luhan on the security footage Tao had brought.” He frowned, voice dropping into a whisper. “I could recognize him anywhere.”

Junmyeon patted Yi Fan’s knee gently, turning to look at Jongin with worry in his eyes. “If Hakyeon has Sehun, there are only two possible outcomes. One is that Sehun is already dead or at least getting there. The other is that they are waiting until Sehun is weak enough to glamour, which will likely take a few weeks at most, at which point he will become a rogue himself. We cannot let that happen.”

“What do you need me to do?” It was eerie knowing how much danger he had been in. Jongin wondered if things would have turned out differently had he known it was not just Yi Fan searching for him.

“Well,” Junmyeon shifted in his seat, looking uncomfortable. Yifan’s gaze hardened, the way it did when he was ready for an argument. “It’s not you, per se, that we need to do something. The problem with rogues is that their vulnerability is muted. They do not respond to their former name because their consciousness is being suppressed, and they don’t respond to their master’s name because they themselves are a buffer. I assume Hakyeon knows this; that is why he uses Luhan. He’s like a force field.”

Yi Fan scoffed from his chair, earning a resigned look from Junmyeon. Jongin could tell they were stalling, and it made him uneasy; it was unlike either of them to avoid a topic of conversation, especially one that involved the safety of the group. 

“The point is,” Yi Fan growled out, though not with the usual force Jongin had come to fear, “We need something with a larger sway, something that can break the glamour on Luhan, and be strong enough that even Hakyeon must obey it.”

“How are we going to find someone like that?” Jongin spoke slowly, a hollow feeling creeping up his chest. He knew- they _all_ knew- that there was only one thing with enough sway to control a high demon. “Only a human would have the power to be able to do such a thing, and even then they themselves are at risk of being glamoured. Where are we going to get a human who even stands a chance against Luhan, let alone Hakyeon?”

The air was suffocating as Yi Fan’s lips pulled into a wicked grin, his head tilting to the side. “We already have one.”

Junmyeon jumped slightly as Jongin’s hands slammed into the table, his chair thrown onto the floor as he leaped to his feet. “Absolutely not.” Jongin looked between the two of them, his body trembling with suppressed anger. “We are not going to involve him.”  
“You’d put him before your family?” Yi Fan accused, his voice less human with each passing second, “You’d put him before the people you’ve known all your life? The people who have cared for you and would do anything to ensure your safety? You’d put him before Sehun?”

“There has to be another way.”

“ _There is no other way!_ ” Yi Fan’s fist connected with the table hard, the wood finally splitting under his touch with a groan. “If you deny us this now, you are ensuring the loss of a brother, and endangerment of everyone else. Do not be so selfish.”

“Kai,” Junmyeon’s voice was weathered, his eyes flicking between the men before him, “We cannot force you to do this, but you must consider the fact that you yourself are in danger.” As Junmyeon’s words rolled over him, Jongin sighed, his fists relaxing at his sides. “Every time you go out, regardless of whether you are hunting or not. What would Kyungsoo do if one night you just didn’t come back?”

Jongin’s gaze was cold on Junmyeon’s face, but he knew the words were true. He was in danger, more so than he had ever been before. It was an unsettling feeling in the least, and the thought of Kyungsoo- Kyungsoo in danger, Kyungsoo mourning over what he had lost, Kyungsoo hurting without Jongin by his side- was too much to bear. “Suho, I- I couldn’t live with myself if he got hurt. I couldn’t take it.”

“Kyungsoo will be protected as one of our own,” Junmyeon assured, at last relaxing back into his chair, “We will do everything in our power to make sure he returns home safe.”

There was nothing left to say, nothing except the silence that seemed to stretch for far longer than necessary. Jongin sighed, his fingers running through his hair before he turned, striding without a word towards to door. He could not see the grin that pulled at Yi Fan’s lips, but he could hear his fingers resume their tapping on the mangled table; an eerie, hollow melody that followed him out the door and resounded in his head long after he had left.

~ ~ ~

Sehun could taste blood in his mouth. He could feel it drop down his body, hear it splatter to the floor and pool into sticky stains on the concrete. Hands gripped his hair; rough hands, cruel hands. They forced his face upwards, fisting in the delicate strands far too harshly. Sehun whimpered, not daring to pull at the metal cuffs for fear of further damaging his already bruised wrists.

“Sehun.” The owner of the voice, the hands, spoke sharply in a way that had Sehun’s stomach twisting. “Get up, Sehun.” It was an order, Sehun could feel it. His body shook, wanting to obey but unable, and pained for being so. “Did you not hear me? Get off the floor, Sehun. Stand up.”

“I can’t.” The words were a sob, Sehun choking on air as he once again disobeyed the presence calling him by name. It was nauseating, his vision spinning into countless different colours. “I can’t, _please_ , my legs. I can’t.”

“Are they broken?” The question was asked with the tilt of a head, a knowing tug of the lips. Sehun’s only reply, however, was a whimper, knowing fully well that they were but not wanting to speak that reality into existence. The hands pulled his head this way and that, angling it in the low light. “I see.”

“Isn’t that enough?” A voice sounded from the doorway, firm yet apprehensive. “N, this is pointless. He will weaken in his own time.”

“Having to heal will speed it up,” the hands answered, their grip loosening, if only slightly, “God knows Yi Fan will not let this one go. At this point I am simply waiting for him to kick down my door.” The figure before him knelt down so that their faces were inches apart, fingers cupping Sehun’s chin gently. “But we will be ready, won’t we, Sehunnie?” The voice was a whisper, a vile concoction of anticipation and sadistic insanity. Teeth glimmered against the dim, sharp lines cutting through the darkness that seeped from the walls. “What do you say, duckling? Should we make your arms match your legs?”

Sehun swallowed as a reply, his throat already raw from screaming. He could feel fingertips ghosting over his bare arms, mere shadows of what was to come. His body trembled, the last of his hope fleeting through the swiftly closing door as he was once again left with the hands. The rough hands. The cruel hands.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *noots internally*  
> I wrote like half of this today. I lowkey feel bad since I don't update as much, or as long, as my past fics. School's a bitch, you feel?

“Do not call Yi Fan by his real name.” Jongin clutched tightly onto Kyungsoo’s hand as he lead him down the dark hallway, his other hand wrapped around Kyungsoo’s forearm. Fuck, he didn’t want to do this. He had almost hoped Kyungsoo would refuse, that he would want nothing to do with Sehun and Hakyeon and the dangers that came with them. Still, Jongin wasn’t surprised that Kyungsoo had agreed, even if it made his heart sink to even consider what could happen. “Address him as Kris.”

“Why?” Kyungsoo looked up at Jongin with curious, slightly fearful eyes. His own hand wrapped around the one on his arm, squeezing gently. The décor of Yi Fan’s house was gaunt, and the only way to actually get in was less than pleasant, but Kyungsoo was happy to be there. He had held back in asking Jongin about his shadow life even if he had been intrigued, so it was a faint silver lining that he could finally accompany him to his true home, to see how Jongin had lived _before_. 

“When a human speaks one of our names, it feels… wrong.” Jongin pulled Kyungsoo closer, pressing his lips to the top of his head briefly. “Uncomfortable, even so much as painful sometimes. It’s kind of the only one up you have on me. If I spoke his name, it would not feel right, but it would not nearly have as much sway as when you say it. Think of the difference between a paper cut and getting stabbed.” Jongin made a face, wincing at his own choice of words. “It’s also a respect thing.”

“I hardly respect him,” Kyungsoo spat, his fingers trailing up to his neck in memory. 

“You should.” The words surprised Kyungsoo; as long as he had known Jongin, the man had despised Yi Fan- _Kris_ \- and he hardly thought there was any respect between the two. “Don’t get me wrong, I don’t like Kris, but I owe a lot to him. Not to mention that despite all the shit all of us put him through, he still looks out for us. He’s doing his best, Soo.”

Kyungsoo hummed in response, eyeing the door that Jongin had stopped them in front of. He felt suddenly small, knowing that whatever on the other side was safe and yet fearing it anyways. He had hoped that he would never again have to look upon Yi Fan’s face, let alone work with him. Kyungsoo reminded himself that it was for Jongin, and he could never say no to keeping him happy, keeping him safe. One last squeeze of the hand was all the reassurance he needed before reaching out, twisting the handle and pushing the door open.

They were met with not one but two pairs of eyes, glancing over at the sound of their entrance. Yi Fan caught Kyungsoo’s eye immediately, his lips pulling up over his teeth in a way that was almost menacing. “Kyungsoo. It has been a while.”

“Yi-” Kyungsoo gritted his teeth, feeling Jongin’s hand twitch in his. “Kris. You are looking more human than last time we met.”

“Let’s skip the formalities, yes?” YI Fan gestured to the seats across from him, an amused glint in his eye. “Have a seat. I assume Jongin has begun to explain to you the situation we are in?”

“Of course.” Kyungsoo let Jongin lead him to the chairs, settling into the one diagonal from Yi Fan. He didn’t want to be too close, even if Jongin said that the man’s hatred for him had faded. Jongin had told him enough to know that he was needed, that Yi Fan would behave if only to have Kyungsoo on his side. His eyes travelled to the unknown man in the room, his face brightening out of spite. “I’m Kyungsoo.”

The man nodded, accepting Kyungsoo’s outstretched hand with a gentleness that was sobering. “Suho.”

Jongin’s hand found Kyungsoo’s once more under the table, his face etched into a permanent frown. “Please, let’s get on with it. I have told Kyungsoo what has happened, and why he is necessary, but you never told me what exactly we will be doing.” Yi Fan shrugged at Jongin’s narrowed eyes, a trio of taps sounding from where his fingers connected with the table.

“We were not sure ourselves at the time. You have to understand that we cannot simply waltz in there and demand Sehun back.” Yi Fan scoffed at the idea, his eyes dragging slowly over Kyungsoo. “We need to control Luhan first. Kyungsoo; that is what we need you for. You and a couple others will be doing that, while Suho, myself, and the rest will take care of Hakyeon and any others in the building. Sehun may be our top priority, but he will be the last thing to be dealt with once we get there.”

“Take care of?” Kyungsoo raised an eyebrow, his head tilting slightly. 

“We are going to kill him.” He held up a hand as Kyungsoo’s mouth dropped, silencing any protests before they could be spoken into existence. “The acts they have committed are punishable by death. If we do not take action, they will, and there is no guarantee that their next victim will not be Jongin.”

Kyungsoo slumped back in his chair, a bitterness strewn about his face. He couldn’t risk Jongin, no more so than Jongin could risk him. “How will we get there?”

“We will shift in,” explained Yi Fan, smirking at Kyungsoo’s resignation. “I am already aware of the location of their den. I am sure you are familiar with this method of travel?”

“Yes.” Kyungsoo shivered at the memory, fresh in his mind. It was how Jongin had gotten him into his house, after all. It wasn’t quite traumatic, but rather unsettling; the air pulled from his lungs, sparks skittering across his skin. The darkness had been the worst, more so than not being able to breathe. Kyungsoo had stared at Jongin until the world had gone black, his open eyes blind to any light, his hands, though wrapped tightly in Jongin’s grasp, unable to feel anything except a cold wind. Though Jongin had told him it took mere seconds, Kyungsoo had ended their journey on the ground, coughing and wheezing as he tried to drag air back into his shaking body. No, it was not Kyungsoo’s preferred method of travel, but he could understand why it was necessary; if Yi Fan’s house didn’t have a door, than he doubted Hakyeon’s would. “How do you know where they are?”

Yi Fan simply shrugged, as if it were common enough knowledge that it was insulting to ask him to explain. “Everything in our world takes energy. A starved demon cannot glamour, cannot shift, nor can one who is badly injured or weak. Any shift that occurs has energy, and that energy has an echo. And those echoes are audible, traceable even, if you know how to listen.”

“When will we be leaving?” Though he had never met Sehun, Kyungsoo felt an urge to help him, to get there before it was too late. He seemed to be important to Jongin, and losing him would cause pain Kyungsoo simply couldn’t bear to witness.  
“Soon.” Yi Fan’s brows furrowed, a scowl creeping onto his face as he lost himself in his thoughts. His fingers resumed their tapping, gentle touches on wood scarred with cracks and dents. “Soon.”

~ ~ ~

Sehun hissed, muscles tensing at the sting of water over the deep lacerations covering his chest.

“Don’t move,” Luhan chided, tapping his uninjured shoulder gently. Sehun simply whimpered in reply, tears threatening to leak from the corners of his eyes. Hakyeon had been in a bad mood that day, Sehun could tell. He had misjudged Sehun, or rather his determination, and even after a week had gone by, Sehun hadn’t succumbed to any attempts at glamour. To Hakyeon the passing days meant an ever increasing chance that Yi Fan would arrive, and he wanted to have Sehun under control before that happened. To Sehun the days meant nothing, hours and seconds blending into one another until the only punctuation became his visits from Hakyeon and in turn, Luhan.

“Please.” His throat ached, hours of screaming and crying turning the flesh raw. “Please just let me go. You _know_ Hakyeon is crazy. He’s going to kill me. I can’t take this.”

“I can’t.” Luhan’s voice was a whisper, his eyebrows inching together as he squeezed more of the water bottle onto Sehun’s wounds. “I- I can’t. Hakyeon wouldn’t let me. He’s in my head. Sometimes it’s quiet, but he never leaves. I can’t get him out.”

“I can help you get him out.” Sehun’s lip trembled as he spoke, his fingers twitching at the feeling of the water. “Kris can get him out. We could help you.”

“No.” Luhan shook his head, his eyes hard. “If Kris could help, if he _wanted_ to help, he would have. He abandoned me.”

“Is that what Hakyeon tells you?” Sehun’s words were interrupted by a rough slap, Luhan’s eyes darkening in a way that was all too familiar. He spat blood from his mouth, tongue probing where his teeth had cut the skin of his cheek. “I’ll take that as a yes.”  
“Kris doesn’t care about me!” Sehun could see Luhan’s teeth extending as he screeched, the sound primal, animal. “He doesn’t care about anyone! Not even you.”

Sehun froze, his eyes widening in shock. “Don’t even say that. He cares so mu-”

“He doesn’t care about you,” he repeated, poison dripping from the words, “If he did, do you think that you’d still be here?” Luhan shook his head, a pitying smile soft on his face. “No, you wouldn’t. He left you here, just like he left me. You are never getting out of here. Never.” His fingers crept up to hold Sehun’s jaw, the nails threatening to break the already bruised flesh. “And if you say his name again,” he whispered, eyes black as he leaned closer, his lips inches from Sehun’s ear, “I’ll fucking kill you.”

~ ~ ~

“The boy is stubborn.” Jaehwan rolled his neck, listening as the bones cracked back into place. “I’ll give him that.”

Hakyeon narrowed his eyes, eyebrows daring together into a frown. “He still thinks that Yi Fan is coming to rescue him.”

“Is he not?”

“Yes,” Hakyeon sighed, “He is. But it is not in our favour for him to know that.” His fingers dragged absentmindedly through Luhan’s hair as he spoke, the soft blond strands simply begging to be pulled. The boy had a blank look on his face, eyes clouded and unfocused. His deep glamour was merely a precaution; Hakyeon didn’t like when he listened to his conversations. Even the best of puppets still wished to pull on their own strings every once in a while, and he wasn’t about to give Luhan anything to kindle that spark. “I do not understand. Luhan unraveled so easily, so quickly, yet Sehun still holds strong. I have denied him food or water, I have forced his body to heal countless times, he is weak but he is just too…”

“Stubborn,” Jaehwan finished, one eyebrow inching towards his hairline. “Hope is not so easily a thing damaged. Luhan was quick only because he had none. He had run from Yi Fan, disgraced him, gone against everything he had been taught and turned his back on the only life he had known. He had been a child, in a way. It was natural to think that there would be no salvation, no repentance. This made him easy to mold, to break. That is simply not the case for Sehun.”

“What do we do, then?” The air felt too stale, buzzing with nervous energy. “I know Yi Fan will not let this slide. He will come to retrieve Sehun, and likely come for my head as well. He knows that Sehun’s clock is ticking, and it worries me that he has not shown up yet. I fear he may be planning something.”

“Of course he is planning something.” Jaehwan scoffed, shaking his head. “He is not so stupid as to break down our door, at least not unarmed. We simply must be ready when he does.” He smiled, teeth glinting dangerously in the firelight. “We will have to speed up Sehun’s preparation.” His grin deepened at the realization that dawned on Hakyeon’s face, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table. “Call in Hongbin. We will see how stubborn Sehun truly is.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, my ducklings, my week has been lit. Ive have work, tests, an engagement party; the whole bananza.  
> Am I complaining? Maybe a little.  
> Am I exhausted? Ohhhh yes.  
> That being said, I forgot how much I love to write Kaisoo. Compared to writing Hunhan or even like the Kris parts, Kaisoo is just... an endless well. Mi amores <3  
> Also yooo do any of you have tumblr? (who am i kidding, of course you do) hmu, Ill follow you.

The world was quiet like this. Calm. Kyungsoo stared through the darkness at the nonsensical patterns on his ceiling, trying to decipher the lines and dots into shapes. He couldn’t sleep. He had tried, and yet the hours ticked on mercilessly. His heart was rattled, his soul shaken, the sediment that had become his life once more suspended in a foggy medium, no way telling what lay mere feet away. It was only Jongin’s heartbeat, steady against his back that kept his feet to the ground, his mind anchored in such vertigo. He could feel the gentle puffs of air against his neck as the other slept, unaware of the turmoil erupting mere inches away. Because though the world was quiet, Kyungsoo’s mind was not. He was scared. In fact, he was fucking terrified. Terrified of Hakyeon, terrified that the halcyon he had so carefully reconstructed would be shattered once more, that all he cared for would slip through his fingers.

“Your heart is beating really fast.” Jongin’s lips moved against Kyungsoo’s skin as he murmured, his arms tightening around his waist. 

“Sorry.” Sehun’s clock was ticking. Kyungsoo knew that. His hourglass was coming to an end, and yet the only thing that occupied Kyungsoo’s mind was how much he didn’t want to go. He didn’t want to be with Yi Fan, he didn’t want to face Hakyeon, nor pry him from Luhan’s mind.

“Mm, s’okay.” Jongin pressed a sleepy kiss to Kyungsoo’s hair, his body pressing closer. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m scared.” Kyungsoo had always found comfort in honesty, especially when it came to Jongin. “I’m scared of what we have to do, even though I know we have to do it.”

“You don’t have to-”

“I _do_ ,” Kyungsoo assured, his voice firm. His fingers found Jongin’s, sliding in between like a puzzle piece. “I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t. It- it’s not just Sehun. It’s you. I can’t risk that.”

Pulling sheets out of the way, Jongin rolled Kyungsoo so that they faced each other, worried eyes burrowing down through their exhaustion. “Kyungsoo.” Jongin’s hands left Kyungsoo's in favour of gripping onto his shoulders, fingers pressing gently into the skin. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. I would take on Hakyeon myself if it meant keeping you safe. Please, please don’t put yourself in danger for my sake, okay? Promise?”

Kyungsoo’s stomach churned. Because yes, he found comfort in honesty, but it wasn’t his comfort that he seeked. It was Jongin’s. “I promise.”

~ ~ ~

It was odd, really, just how ready the body was to feel pain. That it could even feel such extents of torture, that there wasn’t really a point of numbness. It was a weakness, ubiquitous in nature yet no less exploited. Sehun was sure that if such a point existed, the point at which the body simply stopped telling you something was wrong and your nerves quieted in exhaustion, he would have found it. But there wasn’t, there never would be. Because there were always more places to prod at, more skin to defile, more screams to tear from his bloody throat. He was losing himself piece by piece, the need to eat, drink, hunt overshadowed by only the blades that pierces his skin and the bones that snapped and creaked. He was sinking, water filling his lungs, clogging his ears. But it was no longer Hakyeon that piloted his ship to wreck. In fact, the man hadn’t so much as looked at Sehun the past days, not since Hongbin came around.

“We’re quiet today, aren’t we?” Hongbin sat cross legged in front of Sehun, not even looking his way. He had an almost bored expression on his face, but Sehun knew better, even without the knife in Hongbin’s hands, glinting as he turned it over and over in his palm. “Have you lost your voice? I suppose we did play a little rough last night, didn’t we?”

A shudder was all Sehun could respond with, the reply brushed off with a ‘the show must go on’ shrug and another twirl of the knife. He was so calm, so collected, that Sehun wasn’t prepared when he finally lunged forward, digging the blade deep into Sehun’s chest. He smirked as Sehun choked, blood dotting his lips with each raspy breath. Sehun tensed and writhed as the blade withdrew, tortuously slowly.

“I don’t think you’ll need them.” The words were said with a raised eyebrow and a socked head, lips pulling into a playful grin. “If you aren’t going to sing that lovely little song of yours.”

The tip of the blade dug into the other side of his chest and Sehun could feel it break the skin, twisting slowly, slowly. Any screams he conceived were drowned in the blood filling his lungs, and he shook, trying to pull away from the metal invading his body. A hand in his hair stopped his movements, roughly gripping the strands. “Don’t move,” Hongbin tutted, his eyes narrowed in concentration. “Hakyeon would have my head on a plate if I killed you.”

Sehun wanted to struggle. He wanted to fight until the knife slipped though precious few inches higher, to kick until the blade sliced his heart and ended it all. And that fact that he wanted it terrified him, because not once before had he even come close to wanting to die. Death had been something to laugh at, something that Sehun himself had dealt out, never considering it a fate he would be doomed to. Now, he begged for it, the cold embrace of a friend long since known, beloved in her inevitability, feared in her finality. 

_Stupid_. Sehun supposed he was, in fact, foolish. Foolish for thinking that anyone would rescue him, that he would ever squirm from Hakyeon's talons. _Weak_. How long had it been since Sehun was first introduced to this realm of hell? It could not have been long, and yet here he was; wanting death, at the mercy of whoever walked into the room. He was weak, there was no denying that. No wonder Yi Fan didn’t want to save him. _Nobody_ wanted to save him. _Bad_. Sehun was bad. _Worthless_. Sehun was… _Nothing_. Sehun… _Failure_. Sehun. _Unwanted_. Sehun? _Unloved_.

“Sehun?”

There was a moment of confusion as Sehun regained awareness, blinking up at the figure standing over him. The silhouette was blurred, and it took him a moment to realize he was crying, tears mixing with the chalky film of dried blood coating his chest. “Luhan.”

Kneeling down, Luhan took Sehun’s face gently in his hands, turning it this way and that. “He wasn’t very rough today, was he?”

Shaking his head, Sehun cast out his mind, feeling his limbs for any new sign of damage. The cut in his thigh was throbbing, and each breath stung, but there was nothing new, nothing he hadn’t been conscious for. “What-”

“Passed out.” It was a mercy that Luhan’s voice was soft as he seated himself on the floor, familiar rag and bucket in tow. Sehun’s head was pounding, each nerve pulsing painfully. “These are to blame?” His fingers ghosted over the scabbed lines decorating Sehun’s chest, nestled in between the spaces of his ribs. Sehun didn’t answer, he didn’t need to, only sighed as he leaned back against the wall, letting Luhan do what he had come for. The water was warm, the only remanence of daylight in his stone dungeon. 

“Why does Hakyeon have you clean me? I’m just going to get bloody again.” Sehun tried hard to keep the bitterness out of his voice; it wouldn’t be fair to Luhan to lash out at him. He was just as much of a prisoner, the lesser of evils. Sehun noticed his fingers still, water dripping into translucent streams down his chest.

“Hakyeon doesn’t ask me to.” The words were a breath, a nervous stutter. Sehun raised an eyebrow, looking from Luhan’s face to his own body.

“Why do you do it then?” he asked once Luhan began working again, shivering as the water cooled on his skin.

“I can’t imagine it feels nice to be covered in blood. That, and,” his lips pulled into a shy smile as he spoke, and Sehun felt his heart stutter in his ribs. Maybe he was dying after all. “It feels… good to be with you. It feels right. My mind is quieter.” Luhan tapped his head to illustrate his point, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Sometimes I can pretend he’s not even there at all.”

“He’ll come back though.” Sehun’s tone mimicked Luhan’s but was not quite as gentle, rough from screaming and dehydration. “He’ll never leave, not unless you get him out for good. Let me help you.”

“No.” With shaky hands and shaky voice, Luhan skidded away, eyes wide with fear. Sehun wanted to reach out, wanted to pry Hakyeon from his mind with his bare hands. Luhan’s lips parted, unspoken words hanging between them. “He’s calling for me.”  
“Wait.” The word had barely left Sehun’s mouth by the time Luhan had gathered his things and rushed to the door, one hand pausing on handle. “Please don’t go.”

The only reply was a forlorn glance, the door clicking shut and leaving Sehun once more in endless darkness. But this time it didn’t only come from the room. This time it came from inside him as well.

~ ~ ~

“Kyungsoo wants to talk to you.”

Yi Fan looked up from the stack of papers he had been scrutinizing. Jongin, as always, looked displeased to have to talk to him, but Yi Fan had grown accustomed to being disliked. It was easier that way; a rule he had learned the hard way. “Where is he?”

“He’s at home.”

“He’s here?”

Jongin gritted his teeth. “ _Home_.”

There was a momentary staring contest, each knowing what the other meant yet no more willing to admit it. Yi Fan sighed, casting one more glance at the papers before standing, rubbing his hands over his face. He looked utterly wretched, but subtly so. Jongin had known him long enough to notice when his eyes dropped his exhaustion, to know when each movement took that small fraction of energy more.

“You need sleep.” Jongin did not back down at Yi Fan’s raised eyebrow, using his sleepiness to his advantage. “After you see Kyungsoo, sleep. It will do you no good to face Hakyeon half awake.”

Before Yi Fan could respond, Jongin turned and strode out of the room, leaving a space somehow emptier than it had been prior to his arrival. Yi Fan stared at it a moment longer before stretching, his eyes fluttering shut as he prepared to shift.

No matter how many times he did it, it always thrilled him. The energy sizzling in his fingertips, the air seeping through his skin, until there was nothing but black, nothing but quiet. Still, it also drained him; he had been cancelling shifts, quotas dwindling so that there was just enough energy to keep them afloat. It was a sacrifice that needed to be made if he was to keep his family safe. He supposed rest would do him good. Then again, sinking his teeth into flesh would likely do him better.

Not bothering to knock on Kyungsoo’s door, Yi Fan let himself into the bedroom, scowling at the all too familiar surroundings. His prior visit had left a bad taste in his mouth, understandably so. 

“Kris.” Kyungsoo sat cross legged on his bed, a phone making irritating chirping sounds in his hand. “Thank you for coming.”

“Jongin told me you wished to speak with me.” Yi Fan didn’t move from his position at the threshold, arms crossed tightly across his chest. “I supposed it would have to be an important matter for you to willingly, let alone request, a meeting with me, so here I am.” He made an incredulous face, enjoying the way Kyungsoo seemed to shrink in his presence. “Don’t tell me you do not want to go through with the mission?”

“No.” The words had been nothing more than bait, a tease, and Kyungsoo fell for them almost too quickly, discarding his phone onto the mattress. “The opposite, actually. I just… I don’t know what I’m supposed to be expecting, but I need to ask for a favour. A promise.”

“These days, that’s an awful lot to ask. Especially coming from you.” It was all too enjoyable to watch Kyungsoo’s face fall, Yi Fan’s lips curling into a sneer. He was never too tired for torment.

“It’s Jongin.” Kyungsoo’s voice was fragile as he spoke the words, and it was almost worrying how difficult it was for Yi Fan to hide the surprise on his face. He knew that Kyungsoo was impervious to any sway he or Jongin had, and yet Kyungsoo had always seemed so pliant, so ready to please and give all he had to the boy. Jongin had never needed glamour for Kyungsoo; he had never wanted it. No, their control over one another was a different kind of magic all together; one that Yi Fan didn’t dare dabble in. “I know he’ll probably ask you the same thing, but I want you to get him out safe. No matter what.” Kyungsoo looked up at Yi Fan’s blank face hopefully, his eyes unnervingly clear for a human. It reminded YI Fan just how vital he was to saving Sehun. Saving Luhan. “Even if you have to leave me behind,” Kyungsoo continued, though the idea sent a shiver down his spine, “please, please watch over Jongin. Please choose him.”

“You think I wouldn’t?” Yi Fan hated the way he sounded; hurt, bitter failure thick on his tongue. “Kyungsoo, I would never put any of my own in danger unless there was no other option. Even now, we are taking steps, analyzing every precaution, doing everything we can to ensure we don’t lose more in trying to regain what has already been taken from us. Jongin will be well watched over, as with everyone else attending. We do not take these matters lightly.”

Yi Fan wondered how it came to this; Kyungsoo begging _him_ , of all people, to do what he had been trying to do his whole life. Yi Fan was aware of how much he was detested. Somehow it was easier than this, than having self-proclaimed enemies crawl to him with pleads on their tongue, asking of him what he had been so willing to do in the start. It was as offensive as it was wounding. Were they blind? Were they stupid? Perhaps they were both; madly in love. 

“Is that all?”

Kyungsoo nodded, leaning back against his headboard as his hands once more fastened around the cellphone. Yi Fan supposed it was a small favour to ask, but wondered how much it had costed Kyungsoo. Certainly his pride, perhaps a fraction of his dignity. In a way it was endearing, disgustingly so. 

Yi Fan nodded, irked that he had had to shift only to hear Kyungsoo beg. Any other time, he would have made entertainment out of it, but he was tired, and it cost him luxuries he could not currently afford. He gathered up his strength, brows furrowing in concentration as he felt the air begin to shift around him.

“Kris?” Kyungsoo’s voice sounded far away, muffled. Yi Fan opened his eyes to see him painted in smudges, the lines bleeding into one another until it was impossible to tell where Kyungsoo ended and the bed began. “Thank you.”

Teeth, sharp and white, flashed in the darkness that swallowed him, and then Yi Fan was gone, air filling the space he had been.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I was totally supposed this two days ago. I dunno what happened ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯  
> It's looking like this fic is going to end in the next chapter or two. I've yet to decide how exactly its going to end, but there will be suffering. It wouldn't be my fic without it uwu

“Why does Hakyeon hate you?” Yi Fan glanced up at Kyungsoo’s voice, looking ruffled but slightly better than last time they had met. Kyungsoo squirmed in his seat, uncomfortable both under YI Fan’s stare and on the unforgiving wooden chair he was waiting on. “I mean, him specifically. I wouldn’t usually question anyone hating you, but this seems a bit much.”

To Kyungsoo’s relief, Yi Fan did crack a smile at his attempt at humor, despite the fact that the words felt like sandpaper in his throat. 

“Funny,” Yi Fan sneered, though without the usual bite his voice had. His eyes travelled over the empty room, chairs barren where people had sat before. He could only wait. “I think Jongin should be back soon.”

“Don’t change the subject.” Kyungsoo tried his best to look intimidating, arms crossed tightly over his chest. “Why does he hate you? Why does he keep taking our people?”

“ _Our_ people?” Yi Fan scoffed at the idea, head tilting. “Last time I checked, _human_ , they were _my_ people. Not ours.”

“Jongin’s mine.”

“Hakyeon hates me because I didn’t give him what he wanted.” Lips parting at the sudden confession, Kyungsoo let his arms fall from his chest in favour of leaning forward with interest, the silent prompt of curiosity written across his face. He was graced with silence at first, a weary breath escaping into the air between them as Yi Fan realized he was not going to let it go. “Hakyeon was… out of control. He didn’t want to live the way we do now; lurking in the shadows, hunting when we need to, silently watching. He wanted to expose us, to make humans aware of our existence if only to have them fear us. He wanted take our place at the top of the food chain, so to speak, and gorge ourselves with no restraint.”

“And?” Kyungsoo's eyes were wide at the mere thought of what could be, what Hakyeon was capable of.

“And I said no.” Yi Fan shrugged, amusement flickering in his eyes. “It is unnecessary to hunt as often he does; there is no need for that much strength, that much death. He has become powerful because of it, but that power only has the use of treason. He has a goal. It started with Luhan, and it ends with me.”

“He wants to control you?” Kyungsoo’s stomach clenched, the feeling worsening at Yi Fan’s raised eyebrow as he corrected himself with a whisper. “Kill you?”

There was a skitter of energy in Yi Fan’s bones and he relished it, the feeling warm and satisfying as it made its way through his body. Somebody must have killed. He had sent them all out in preparation; the only feasting he had ever allowed. They needed their strength for what was to come, and it was safer to go out in packs. He couldn’t risk having another taken in his hastiness. The idea was laughable; that Yi Fan himself had to worry if the streets were safe enough. _He_ was supposed to be the danger; _he_ was supposed to be the shadows. They no longer belonged to him, and it was far overdue time to take them back.

“Why do you need to hunt?” Kyungsoo’s voice interrupted his thoughts, and Yi Fan would have been irritated had the question not been so heavy. “You could all live as Jongin did. You wouldn’t have to worry about whether or not your prey might be one of Hakyeon’s men.”

“He wants me dead, Kyungsoo.” The words were stated flatly, but Kyungsoo couldn’t help but notice just how familiar they were. They were words that he himself had said, though it hadn’t been Hakyeon he had referred to, it had been Yi Fan himself. The irony was both amusing and haunting. “I banished him, threw him away from everything he knew, everyone he loved, simply for his ideas, his wants. Not hunting will not stop him from coming for me, and don’t think he would stop with me. He won’t rest until every last one of us is under his control or dead. Not hunting would make it all the more easier for him. It would weaken us, make us vulnerable. No one would be safe; not me, not Junmyeon.””

“What about after?” Kyungsoo interrupted with a slight panic in his voice, not wanting Yi Fan to continue his speech, not wanting Jongin’s name to cross his lips. “After you kill him.”

“ _If_ I kill him,” Yi Fan corrected, his eyes burrowing into Kyungsoo’s face as the question washed over him. “I was gifted power, yes, and a naturally high status in our hierarchy, but there is blood on his hands. He has cheated the system, risen in rank through tortuous means. When I face him, I will face him as an equal.”

The idea of Yi Fan not winning hadn’t even occurred to Kyungsoo. It stuck in his throat, the thought of ‘what if’ grinding into his lungs.

“Where do you think we come from, Kyungsoo? Hakyeon, Jongin, Myself?” Kyungsoo opened his mouth to speak, but found no answer, no words worthy of existence that would even begin to explain the mess he had found himself in. “Don’t you wish you knew? I know I do.” There was another crackle of energy, this time strong enough that even Kyungsoo twitched at the sound. Yi Fan smirked, trying to guess who it had been this time. Perhaps Chanyeol, if the echo was anything to go by. “The point is, we come from somewhere, some _thing_ , even if we don’t know where. That something has spoken us into existence for a reason, and I am not so foolish as to go against it.”

There was no air left in the room, and Kyungsoo breathed in nothing but Yi Fan’s words. They were too big, too wound up in one another, and he thought for a moment that he would choke on them. Yi Fan was patient as the silence crept on, eyes locked on Kyungsoo’s face. He felt another spark, smaller, more peaceful. Yixing. They would be coming back soon. 

“Do you fear it?” Kyungsoo breathed at last, his gaze not moving up from the table and the scars it littered across its surface. Evidence of decades of anger no doubt, of meetings and shouts, punishments and praise. “The somewhere? The something?”

The first ripple of a shift spilled across the room, buzzing in Yi Fan’s chest. “At the moment,” Another ripple followed the first, and he counted them, until each person was back home; the safest they would be for the hours to come. “There are greater things to fear.”

~ ~ ~

Hakyeon was flitting. It was the only way Jaehwan could describe it. He was flitting about the house, in and out of rooms, often yelling into the phone, his voice angry though his face was bright. Jaehwan himself could feel it in the air; the charge, the anticipation. It was far too early, at least for them. Sehun still hadn’t broken, though he had been showing some promise the past day or two. Hakyeon had managed to at least chip the surface of Sehun’s mind, ripple the surface, but it was never lasting. It was more fleeting thoughts, urges, impulses. But it still wasn’t enough.

“No, no, don’t bother wasting time.” Jaehwan looked up as Hakyeon once again entered the room, somehow managing to hold the phone up to his ear despite the colourful assortment of what could have only been decorations spilling from his arms. “If the glamour doesn’t stick, then just leave them be. How many do you guys have so far? How many? Get at least twenty more. Tell Sanghyuk to shift what you have in so far. I swear to god if they aren’t dressed up. Yeah, yeah, get it done, Wonshik.”

His sentence was punctuated by hanging up the phone, Hakyeon glancing at it distastefully before letting it fall to the floor. Jaehwan looked between the collection of god knew what in his arms and his face, eyebrows raised in silent question. “It’s not my birthday.”

“Get dressed.” Hakyeon didn’t give so much as a huff to acknowledge Jaehwan's attempt at humor, save for the slightly sour face sent in his direction. “We’re throwing a party.”

“This is awfully last minute. I am not certain our friends from the city will be able to make it on such short notice.” Really, Jaehwan shouldn’t have been surprised. They had been waiting for Yi Fan to come for their heads, and though he wasn’t exactly sure how Hakyeon was able to tell when that time would finally arise, he knew better than to question it. 

“They’ll come.” There was a slight wickedness to Hakyeon’s voice, unsettling enough to make Jaehwan stand, knowing full well that this particular Hakyeon was not one to be disobeyed. “It is not something they will want to miss.”

Hakyeon could nearly hear their footsteps as Jaehwan made his leave; feel Yi Fan’s fingers around his throat, his breath on his skin. It was to be a night not so quickly forgotten, that he knew for sure. He had been listening to the air, tasting it on his tongue. He had felt the echoes of shifts, so many at once that there was but a single possible reasoning. Yi Fan was charging, overloading both his pets and himself in preparation. It was at least slightly comforting to know that the nervousness was not only on his side.   
Passing off his armful of decorations to the nearest table, Hakyeon made his way down a familiar hallway, the air becoming stale and chilled. It smelled like fear here, of lost hope and blood. It smelled like Sehun.

Had the air always been so cold? Hakyeon couldn’t remember. It certainly suited the room; unforgiving stone and poorly maintained metal leeching despair into the air. It was all hard, cold, and Sehun seemed unfitting to his dank surroundings; a soft light in such a choking black. Still, there was a certain pleasure in wanting him sit there, caged by the darkness he once craved, sliced open by the blades he once wielded. 

“Duckling?” Sehun looked up at the sound of Hakyeon’s voice, eyes widening. It had been a while since he had visited, and his presence didn’t exactly mean good news. “Do not fear, I am not here to harm you. At least not yet. In fact, you and I are going to go for a little walk.”

Sehun couldn’t remember the last time he had stood, let alone walked. He wasn’t sure his legs would hold him; they had been broken and mended too many times to count. He said nothing as Hakyeon unchained him from the wall, his arms falling unceremoniously to his sides. Upon inspection, his wrists were raw, blisters and scabs interrupting the scar tissue that bubbled up against his skin. Hakyeon waited patiently as Sehun pushed himself onto his knees, brow furrowed in concentration as his body slowly lifted from the ground. He swayed on his feet but did not fall, and he could tell by the slight appraisal on Hakyeon’s face that he hadn’t been the only one expecting such an outcome. 

He only had a moment to regain his balance before Hakyeon was off, hand gripping painfully onto Sehun’s wrist as method of dragging him out of the room. It was too bright outside, too warm, too soft. It was everything Sehun had wanted, but all at once in such a dizzying array that the world blurred in and out of focus. He inhaled, the air full of scents of food and, surprisingly, humans. His mouth watered at the smell, though it was unclear which option was the reason why. 

“You’ll get to see your family again tonight.” Hakyeon said the words as if he were discussing weather, but Sehun blanched, nearly tripping as the soft carpet beneath his feet gave way to hard, polished marble. Hakyeon lead him to the end of the grand hall, where the white walls were interrupted by the dark grey of metal, chains bolted into the stone and hanging to the ground. “I do expect them to come barging into my home, and I think that rather hiding you away, it would be best to show you off, hm? Show Yi Fan the fruit of my labors.”

Sehun knew he looked like a mess. It was a near blessing that they hadn’t passed any mirrors in their way to the grand room; he wasn’t sure if he could stand the sight of himself. He certainly wouldn’t wish it upon Yi Fan. 

With a final shove towards the chains, Hakyeon turned to leave, the command of “lock him up” falling sharply from his tongue. Hands, gentle and cautious, guided Sehun closer to the wall, their touch pulling him from his trance. Luhan smiled softly up at him as he closed shackles around his wrists, his eyes narrowing at the mess of scars that encircled them.

“The offer is still on the table.” Sehun’s voice sounded foreign to his own ears, rough and low as he watched Hakyeon’s retreating back, no doubt having better things to spend his time on than watching Luhan pitter over Sehun. “No matter what happens tonight. You are always welcome back with us.”

“Yi Fan wouldn’t have me.” They were words said countless times before, and yet there was a tinge of uncertainty to Luhan’s voice as he spoke them, an anxiousness that had plagued the entire house. 

“I would.” Though his new cuffs were of better quality than the ones Sehun had donned previously, it still hurt to move his arm, metal digging into the sensitive skin of his wrist as he reached forward to cup Luhan’s cheek. “Don’t do it for Yi Fan. You know you don’t belong here, you know you are more than a slave.”

“He’s changed me.” Luhan’s hand came up to tap on his temple, the sound just loud enough to hear over the silence between them. “I don’t know who I am anymore, who I was. He’s filling so much space in my head, and I’m scared of what will remain if he leaves. I’m scared that there will be nothing left of me to fill the gaps, that I’ll be… empty.”

When Luhan pulled away, Sehun let him. It was too easy to picture what haunted him, too easy to think of it as an inevitability rather than merely possible. Sehun didn’t want to imagine Luhan as anything less than whole, even if it meant some of him was Hakyeon. The boy had endured enough pain already.

“Luhan!” Hakyeon’s voice carried easily through the grand space, sharp enough that Sehun flinched and loud enough that Luhan jumped backwards, eyes searching for the source of the sound. “Come, leave him. There is much to do, and an increasingly small amount of time to do it.” Hakyeon’s eyes travelled from Luhan to Sehun as he spoke, a dark wildness flickering in their depths. “Our friends will be here soon, and we want to be ready for when the fun truly begins.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I am SOREEWEWYWYYYY for taking so long to post this. (but my GPA isn't)  
> 2\. How is it that even when I try to write other ships, my fics end up being Kaisoo???? #When you're OTP trash  
> 3\. Remember in pulse how I said that you won't like this Hunhan. hehe.  
> 4\. Enjoy, my little ducklings

The shift didn’t feel as bad this time. It was still far from pleasant, but Kyungsoo was prepared for it; ready for the cold air, existing everywhere but his lungs. He couldn’t understand how Jongin felt so comfortable with it, holding Kyungsoo tight against his chest even after any sense of touch had escaped either of them. Kyungsoo held his eyes tightly shut, not wanting to see the endless black that would greet him should he peek during the movement. It was only once his feet felt solid ground, and his body was warmed by Jongin, that he dared open them, greeted with a dim hallway, polished and pristine. 

There were a series of soft thuds as the others followed, Kyungsoo counting each one until he was certain that everyone was there. Jongin held him for a moment more, unwilling to loosen his grip until Yi Fan took his place at the head of the pack, addressing them all with a firm stare.

“From this moment on,” he began, his voice uncharacteristically soft, “You are all in danger. It is impossible to tell what the outcome of this operation will be, but I do have great hope that we will bring our Sehun and Luhan home.”

The air in the hallway was too thick, too stale. Kyungsoo wondered where exactly they were, both in Hakyeon’s house and relative to the city. It was impossible to tell without windows, and the walls sprawled out to infinity on either side of him. 

“Chanyeol, Baekhyun, Jongdae, and Minseok.” It was Junmyeon that spoke this time, looking through the crowd to find the ones he spoke of. “You will be coming with me to take care of any men Hakyeon has lurking around the building. We know of five for sure that are his main men, however there is no way to tell how many rogues he has under control in addition to that. Tao, you will be taking Kyungsoo. You must find Luhan and tear the glamour from him.” Kyungsoo frowned, so focused on the fact that Junmyeon had said Tao’s name and not Jongin’s that he nearly missed the words that followed. Jongin seemed to notice it as well, his arms tightening around Kyungsoo’s waist. “Do not expect it to be easy.” Junmyeon was staring at him with an intensity that Kyungsoo had only seen from Yi Fan. It was unnerving, and he felt all eyes trained on him, some hopeful and others doubtful. “This is not something that has been done before, and you will have to ‘wing it’ so to speak. Tao will be with you if any problems arise.” Junmyeon offered a tight smile before turning his attention to Tao, clearing his throat before he spoke. “If it cannot be done, or if Luhan is too dangerous for Kyungsoo to handle, do not hesitate to terminate him.” The words hung in the air for a second, the horror of the possibility washing over the group with a grim suffocation. “Yixing and Jongin will go with Yi Fan and assist in the destruction of Hakyeon. Are there any questions?”

“I’m going with Kyungsoo.” Jongin’s voice was a growl, vibrating against Kyungsoo’s back as he spoke.

“It is not negotiable.” Yi Fan’s eyes were locked on Kyungsoo’s as the words fell from his lips, sharing a look that Kyungsoo found himself able to interpret. “Tao will keep Kyungsoo just as safe as you would be able to.”

“I’ll be okay.” Kyungsoo stopped Jongin before he was able to speak, his hands squeezing the ones locked around his waist. “It’s fine, Kai.” He pushed himself up onto his toes, pressing a kiss against Jongin’s cheek and ignoring the look of disgust Yi Fan sent him because of it. 

The tension dissipated, Yi Fan taking Jongin’s whisper of “be safe” as acceptance and nodding in approval. “I will take my group to the ballroom. If I know Hakyeon, and I unfortunately do, then he will be there. Everyone else, scout the hallways. Do not let your guard down.”

After a quick assurance that all was understood, Yi Fan turned, making his way down the hall with Yixing on his heel. Jongin pressed one last kiss to Kyungsoo’s cheek before following, not daring to speak. Kyungsoo wondered how well Yi Fan knew Hakyeon’s house, seeing as he felt comfortable navigation the maze of hallways sprawled in every direction. He watched as the trio turned the corner, a deep fear settling heavily into his stomach. It felt wrong to be away from Jongin, especially in a place like this. 

“Kyungsoo, come on.” Tao’s voice was deliciously soft, and Kyungsoo took comfort in it, taking his outstretched hand and allowing himself to be pulled along the hall. They stayed as a large group, Junmyeon leading them past countless turns and doors that, under inspection, were locked. It took mere minutes before Kyungsoo was lost, the ever-splitting map in his mind turned useless. There were too many hallways, too many doors, too many dead ends. He couldn’t imagine how Junmyeon seemed to navigate with ease through the labyrinth and wondered just how far its tendrils reached; a mandala of confusion and slowly fading hope. 

“Do you think Luhan is with Hakyeon?” Kyungsoo was the first to break the silence, after countless minutes of walking, the only sound being their feet on the smooth marble.

“No.” Junmyeon shook his head, not bothering to look back. Kyungsoo could see how focused he was, his muscles twitching at every fraction of a sound. “It would be foolish. Both he and any of his rogues are under sway of his name, so to have Luhan in the same room would mean that we- _you_ \- could incapacitate both of them at once. My guess is that he is counting on our relationship with Luhan to give us pause. Tao is doing us a great service by escorting you, considering that it may end in him killing Luhan.”

Tao’s eyes were locked on the ground when Kyungsoo looked over, not once straying as their path lengthened. He did, however, give Kyungsoo’s hand a gentle squeeze at the sound of his name; a silent comfort. Kyungsoo looked back to Junmyeon, only to see him frozen at yet another junction of the hallway, his head cocked. One path lead straight head, in line with the hall they had just been travelling. The other stretched out perpendicularly, turning before Kyungsoo could see where it led. His eyes flickered between the men, each one tense, not breathing as they listened to sounds Kyungsoo couldn’t detect. 

“We’re being followed.”

“No, it’s coming from ahead.”

“I hear it from behind.”

“So do I.”

“It’s definitely further along.”

“It’s both.” Junmyeon’s words silenced the chatter, dread sinking into Kyungsoo’s chest. He stopped to listen again, and this time Kyungsoo could hear it; many pairs of footsteps, pounding against the floor, coming closer, closer. “Tao, take Kyungsoo.” Junmyeon tilted his head in the direction of the shorter hallway, and Kyungsoo’s stomach churned. He didn’t want to be split from the group, even if that had been the plan to begin with. “Go, Tao. _Now_.”

~ ~ ~

Yi Fan could feel Jongin’s glare burning into the back of his head. By now, he was used to it. He hadn’t expected the separation to go easily, and he hadn’t been on good terms with Jongin to begin with. However he couldn’t help but wonder briefly just how far back the line went, and just how close he was to crossing it.

“How many times have you been here?” The tension was not lost on Yixing, and he had been sporadically starting conversation, if only to ease the stifling air that existed in the space between them. “You seem to know your way around this place pretty well.”

“Too many.” Yi Fan didn’t look back when he answered, partly because he needed to stay alert and partly because he didn’t want to deal with the look Jongin would send him if he did. “This palace used to belong to me, even if I didn’t use it often.” Jongin’s gaze softened a little at the words, if only in surprise. “When Hakyeon completely went… rogue, this is where we left him. After all, I couldn’t have you all visiting a place where he could shift in at any time. You can owe your lives to the fact that he does not know the whereabouts of our current residence.”

Jongin wondered, briefly, just how old Yi Fan was. It had never been something he was cared enough to ask, but there had been a life, it seemed, before he had existed, and it bothered him slightly to have not been a part of it. He felt ignorant, vulnerable, and all the more adamant to watch the light flicker out of Hakyeon’s eyes. 

Yi Fan stopped before a grand door, countless designs intricately carved into the ancient wood. It was only then that he looked back at Jongin and Yixing, waited until they nodded before pressing down on the handleset, all three holding their breath until a small click resounded from within.

~ ~ ~

Tao’s grip was tight around Kyungsoo’s hand as he pulled them down the hallway, his pace much too fast to be comfortable. Still, his footfalls were quiet, and Kyungsoo could tell he was listening. He too tried to slow his breathing enough to hear, catching the echoes of shoes against the floor, and for a few moments, silence. Tao paused, not even out of breath as he tilted his head. Kyungsoo was struck by how animalistic he looked, eyes darkening slightly, head cocked as his eyebrows drew together in concentration. He froze, and Kyungsoo was about to ask why when a chorus of growls and crashes sputtered down the hallway. Someone shrieked, the sound sending a shiver down Kyungsoo’s spine. A sudden jerk almost pulled Kyungsoo’s arm out of his socket as Tao began to drag him down the hallway with a renewed fever, Kyungsoo barely managing to keep up. He heard footsteps behind him, and turned just in time to see Junmyeon tackle someone Kyungsoo didn’t recognize, both men falling to the floor.

“Run!” When Suho looked up at Kyungsoo, his eyes were black and depthless, sharpened teeth glinting in the dim lighting of the hallway. “Kyungsoo, _run_!” The sight was terrifying in its own right, but when the _thing_ beneath him screeched and sunk its teeth into Junmyeon’s shoulder, Kyungsoo felt his heart stuttering, suddenly able to keep up with Tao out of fear alone. He desperately hoped for an unlocked door, not sure how long he would be able to keep pace for, but the walls blurring past them were empty, not a single decoration adorning them. He was sweating despite the air in the hallway dropping noticeably, each breath burning in his lungs. They turned a corner, Kyungsoo slamming into Tao as the latter stopped suddenly.

A dead end. The hall ended with a single door, metal rather than wooden like all the others they had passed. It was even colder than before; Kyungsoo’s panting threatening to create puffs of fog in front of his face. The chaos was coming closer, and Kyungsoo could only pray that it would be unlocked as Tao tugged him forward, his hand reaching out to touch the metal knob. His eyes darted to Kyungsoo as it turned with a click, and he swung it open, pulling Kyungsoo inside and slamming it shut just as the first body fell into view.

~ ~ ~

A mass of bodies greeted Yi Fan when he pulled open the double doors, enough that there was hardly any space left in the grand ballroom. Not a single one moved, simply standing and staring through masks and make up, glazed eyes following their every movement.

“They’re human.” Jongin’s whisper was the only thing that occupied the silence, and Yi Fan noticed that they were indeed human. Each one was dressed in the finest attire, ball gowns and tuxedos, feathered masks and death red lips. Yixing reached out to gently shake the shoulder of one, lips pulled into a frown. It merely blinked at him with long feather eyelashes, not registering the touch. 

Pushing past the bodies, Yi Fan lead them further into the crowd, searching for movement, for danger. Jongin could see they were getting closer to the end of the room, where a grand throne was seated against the wall. It was empty.

Jongin could see Yi Fan ahead of him, stilling as he got to the edge of the crowd. He quickly followed, stumbling past the last of the bodies. The sight made his skin crawl, the air ripped from his lungs. “Sehun.”

The boy was a mess, countless scars crisscrossing his skin, remnants of past injuries still fading. Blood oozed from fresh wounds, bruises covering most of the skin that was exposed and creeping to the parts that weren’t. His flesh barely clung to his body in some places, and he was so thin that Jongin could see the outline of every bone in his body. At the sound of his name, he looked up, face gaunt and pale. This was not the Sehun he knew.

The sight of Sehun had been so shocking that Jongin hadn’t noticed the figure behind him at first, until it moved to grab a hold of Sehun’s hair, tilting his head back to expose his neck. It was not someone Jongin knew, and flicked his eyes toward Yi Fan for clarification.

“Luhan.” The word fell off Yi Fan’s tongue without emotion, or perhaps so much that it was impossible to tell where the pain ended and the relief began. The boy grinned at his name, tilting his head slightly and staring at them with wide, glazed eyes. A knife glinted from his free hand, the blade spotless and sharpened to a flawless edge. 

“Oooh, duckling, we have visitors.” There was something wrong about Luhan’s voice when he spoke. It sounded wrong, even to Jongin, and he had never met the boy before. “Are these your friends? Do they like how you look? So pretty.”

“Put the knife down, Luhan.” Yi Fan’s voice stayed flat, even if Jongin could see his jaw tightening, white knuckled fists hanging at his sides. “Put the knife down, _Hakyeon_.”

The mention of Hakyeon’s name had Jongin’s eyes widening, turning to make sure he wasn’t in the room. He wasn’t sure who he was supposed to address when he spoke, but Jongin stepped forward, earning a whimper from Sehun as the grip on his hair was tightened. “Luhan, where is Hakyeon?”

Luhan laughed at the question, the sound quick and hard. “He’s here,” he giggled, tapping the knife against his head, “Always here. He has a present for you. Luhan has to give the present, doesn’t he? Hakyeon is here, but he’s not here also. Where is he? He’s here. Is he here? No, he’s not. So Luhan will give the present.”

“Put down the knife,” Yi Fan repeated, his teeth clenched. A choking dread settled over Jongin, anxious that Hakyeon was not with them. He’d rather face the man himself than not know where he lurked, sneaking through the hallways, hunting Junmyeon, hunting _Kyungsoo_. 

“Oh god, Kyungsoo.” Jongin’s eyes widened at the thought, spinning and pushing back through the sprawl of bodies before Yi Fan could order him to stop. His footsteps echoed off the high walls, the slamming of the door finalizing his departure. Luhan flinched at the sound, a loud hiss sounding from his parted lips. He guided the knife along Sehun’s chest, digging in just enough that a circle of blood dotted the perimeter of his heart. Yixing swallowed, his gaze flicking between Yi Fan and Luhan, not sure what to do but not wanting to do nothing at all.

“He won’t make it in time.” The grin Luhan cracked was devilish, creeping up his face to his dark eyes. Yi Fan had always thought the look didn’t suit him; Luhan was far too gentle a soul, far too soft for the fangs he grew into. “He’s here, he’s there. He’ll eat him up. You get two presents. Two presents, this is the first. I hope you like them.”

Sehun’s eyes were wide as Luhan tugged harshly on his hair, the tip of the blade pressing into the center of the circle he had drawn. He swallowed, body shaking as his eyes connected with Yi Fan’s. His voice was faint and tinged with pain, barely audible over Luhan’s cackling, but it was loud enough, and held everything he needed to say, every wrong he needed to right. Yi Fan growled as the words registered, lips forming around empty air, empty words, reaching out and rushing forward too late, too late, too late.

“Forgive him.”

~ ~ ~

“Hello, human.” The voice came from somewhere in the room, far too dark for Kyungsoo to see. It was cold, the stale air reeking of blood and earth. He felt Tao pull him closer, pressing Kyungsoo up against the wall. Growls and bangs sounded from the door, an awful din that echoed off of what Kyungsoo assumed to be stone. He felt along the wall slowly, letting Tao guide him in what was hopefully the direction away from the voice. His fingers found metal, cold and rusted, bolted into the wall, and he shivered at the thought of what it could have been for.

“Hakyeon.” Tao’s voice was cold, but Kyungsoo could sense the underlying fear, the slight waver of uncertainty. “I thought you would be with Kris.”

“Mm.” The voice rang out from closer than Kyungsoo expected, flinching at the hum and the amused words that followed. “I’m sure you did, but I simply couldn’t justify missing the opportunity to meet such a _special_ guest. Welcome to my home, Kyungsoo.”

A hand ghosted across Kyungsoo’s skin, and he jumped back into Tao, his fingers clutching the material of his shirt as if his life depended on it, and perhaps it did. 

“Oh, Hakyeon, let me play with this one.” He felt the hand once more caress his arm, but the action was cut short, Tao pulling Kyungsoo away with a snarl. There was a gut wrenching snap, deep and solid, and the voice howled, the sound sending a shiver down Kyungsoo’s spine. 

“Careful, Binnie, this one bites.” Hakyeon’s voice boomed throughout the space, power seeped into every word. It was hard to tell where it came from, and as Kyungsoo reached out for Tao in the darkness, an arm wrapped around his waist, pulling him back against an unfamiliar chest. A warm hand pressed against his mouth, threatening to suffocate him. It clutched tighter as Kyungsoo tried to pry the fingers off, pressing painfully into his cheeks. “Oh, Kyungsoo,” Hakyeon cooed into his ear, not even seeming to notice Kyungsoo’s desperate struggles, “you smell absolutely delicious. How on earth has Jongin not fucked you yet?

Jongin. Kyungsoo whimpered at his name, hoping that he was safe, hoping that Yi Fan kept his promise. He tried to focus on him, tried to remember the way he smiled and how his hands were always so gentle, polar to those holding him now. It was hard to concentrate; there were constant growls and thumps from across the room, grunts and the clanking of shuffled metal. It was torturous not being able to see, not being able to tell if Tao was alright. The sounds on the other side of the door increased, the metal rattling on its hinges. A body flew past Kyungsoo, slamming into the wall with a sickening crunch. Hakyeon tensed, his chest vibrating out a growl.

“It’s okay, Kyungsoo.” Tao’s voice filtered through the din, coming from across the room. Relief swept through Kyungsoo, feeling the body brush past him, stalking back towards the other side of the room. Perhaps he hadn’t given Tao enough credit. After all, Yi Fan had entrusted him to control Luhan. Kyungsoo mentally scolded himself for not having enough faith. Even with their past enmity, he hardly considered himself to be high on Yi Fan’s list of people he wanted dead. 

The rattling of the door heightened, its growls and roars matching those coming from the room. Hakyeon pulled Kyungsoo further back, his hand not once leaving its hold on his mouth. Every struggle Kyungsoo made was rewarded with a tightening of the arm around his chest, tighter, tighter, until he could barely breathe. It dawned on him that he could die like this, wrapped up in the cold and the dark. He would never again get to feel the sun on his skin, never again fall asleep in Jongin’s arms, or tell him he loved him. 

The world became quiet, deathly so, and Kyungsoo wondered briefly if he had passed out, soft and vulnerable in Hakyeon’s arms. He blinked against the darkness, listening. It _was_ quiet. The rattling on the door had stopped, and the only sound from the room was panting and the faint drip on liquid on the floor. 

“Hakyeon.” Tao’s voice sprung tears of relief in Kyungsoo’s eyes, and he felt his body go limp in the arms that held him, the tension having drained any last drop of energy from his muscles. “Let Kyungsoo go.”

“One more step and I’ll tear his fucking throat out.” The words were a snarl, nearly unintelligible through the growls blossoming in Hakyeon’s chest. Kyungsoo found a certain smugness to his anger, hoping that somewhere deep within it lingered fear.

“There is nothing left.” Kyungsoo was in awe at how Tao managed to keep his voice even. He wanted to scream and fight, to leave the horrid room and never once again step foot into the luxuries of Hakyeon’s dwelling. “You cannot win. Kris is coming for you, Kyungsoo or not. There is no escape. Accept your fate honorably; there is no cause for more bloodshed.”

“You are foolish.” Kyungsoo felt Hakyeon’s hand travel from his mouth to his throat as he spoke, constricting just enough that faint spots appeared before his eyes. It was an odd sort of déjà vu, one he did not want to relive. “We belong at the top. Humans are nothing, _nothing_ , to us.” The hang closed tighter, and Kyungsoo gasped, unable to drag air into his lungs. Tighter, and Kyungsoo sputtered, eyes wide as he frantically looked for escape. Tighter, until Kyungsoo could see his pulse at the corners of his vision, until his body screamed for oxygen as his hands clawed at his throat, the actions going unnoticed by Hakyeon. “We could be rulers, we could be _kings_.”

The door flew open with a thunderous sound, light, too bright for Kyungsoo’s eyes, filtering into the space. The world was fuzzy; a blur of black and red and teeth and flesh. It was loud, too loud; a dissonance, a symphony of war. 

Kyungsoo felt the world in flashes. He felt Hakyeon’s hands leave his body, and the bruises that stayed after they had gone. He felt the ground beneath his back, cold stone that was wet with an unknown liquid. Finally, he felt fingers on his skin, gentle, cautious.

His hearing returned next. Whispers tickled his ear, their solemn tones heavy in his mind.

“Minseok and Chanyeol did not make it. The rest are taking Luhan back home. He was quite… inconsolable.”

“Sehun?” A pause. A sigh. “I see. Is Tao alright?”

“He will be. Jongin, stop touching him. You’re making a mess.”

The fingers retreated from Kyungsoo’s skin, and he found himself missing their touch. They grounded him, pulled him back to reality. He opened his eyes, squinting as they adjusted to the light, dim as it was. He was greeted with two pairs of eyes, staring down at him with a mixture of worry, apprehension, and relief. A squeeze of his hand directed him to a third pair, dark and deep and terrifying. 

“Jongin?” Kyungsoo winced at his own voice, faint and rough. Jongin was covered in blood, dripping from his mouth and sticky on his hands. It coated his chest and neck, staining Kyungsoo’s hands clasped tightly between Jongin’s own. He could feel it on his face, chalky, sticky, the metallic tang making his stomach churn. He looked away, not able to take the sight any longer, and immediately regretted the action. To his side lay Hakyeon, or at least what was left of him. His face was mangled, flesh hanging off in ribbons and in some places not even attached at all. His neck scarcely held his head onto his shoulders, shredded to reveal blood stained bone. The place where his chest should have been was a cavern, ripped open to expose torn lungs. Ribs stuck up in unnatural angles, snapped and sharp, some poking through stretches of skin. His heart lay a few feet away, pierced with what Kyungsoo could only assume were teeth marks. As his eyes travelled further downward, a wave of nausea rolled over him, recognizing the intestines sloppily pulled from Hakyeon’s abdomen onto the ground. Kyungsoo squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting to think about Hakyeon, not wanting to wonder where his hands were, or in how many places his legs were broken. He didn’t want to look into his eyes and see them staring back, glassy and unfocused. He just wanted to leave. He just wanted to go “Home.”

Yi Fan nodded, regarding Jongin with slight disgust and obvious appraisal. “Clean yourselves up. You can take him home.” It was then Kyungsoo noticed that Yi Fan didn’t have a spot of blood on him, looking as he did the moment they shifted into Hakyeon’s palace. He turned to leave, Junmyeon on his heels, when Jongin spoke up, blood dribbling from his lips.

“I don’t think he’d want to be around you guys for a while.” Jongin frowned up at Yi Fan, his hands tightening their grip on Kyungsoo’s.

“No, Kai, not back to my house.” There was a certain smugness to Yi Fan’s voice as he spoke, tossing one last glance over his shoulder. His hand clutched the metal door lightly, pulling it the rest of the way open to banish the shadows the still lurked in the corners of the room. “ _Home_.”


End file.
